Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Inspiration/Block (for the writer) (05/20/10)
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TITLE: Parallel Differences | Previous Challenge Entry
By Robyn Burke
05/24/10 -
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Abuse being my muse, I took my fate and set it to a rhythm, a meter, a cadence. Stories and anecdotes filled lined pages of notebooks giving me a measure of comfort, satisfaction, fulfillment.
And then, the writing stopped. The journal was discovered and this, under duress, led to admitting there were others, hidden around the house. And I watched in silent anguish as years of outpourings, heart cries and dreams, spiraled up and dissolved into ash as the flames of the matchstick devoured the ink in a hungry anger.
I did not cry for I was well past tears at this point in my life. The emotions were carefully controlled like an outdoor faucet that has been winterized; drained of all its moisture. But something definitely died in me that day. I put the pen in the chipped coffee mug with it’s re-glued handle and walked away.
The same raw heartache that had been the inspiration was now the source of obstruction on my creative flow.
Years later, the innocent heroine, now jaded and broken and without the title of widow, nonetheless, summoned the strength to escape and start over, no longer caring if a “Mr. Right” existed. Freedom to write and leave a journal on my desk, in plain sight, did not stir the muse inside me however. The block, I feared, seemed permanently set in place.
Until one day, cliché as it may sound, the White Knight rode into this heroine’s life. He brought healing and restoration to my soul. His Grace re-kindled hope and His Redeeming Love invited the childlike innocence to reappear.
I found myself trusting again, daring to dream, long buried passions stirring. Healing brought inspiration and inspiration gripped the pen. Spurred by deep-rooted thoughts, re-born in a desire to reach out and help others, the words flowed…
Once upon a time, I was married to a very bad man…
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My favorite lines:
"Abuse being my muse, I took my fate and set it to a rhythm, a meter, a cadence."
"I watched in silent anguish as years of outpourings, heart cries and dreams, spiraled up and dissolved into ash as the flames of the matchstick devoured the ink in a hungry anger."
"Healing brought inspiration and inspiration gripped the pen."
How horrible is in when one person takes control over another and how empowering when breakout comes, in more ways than one.
(Odes=plural. Ode's=possessive)
Thanks for sharing.